Freedom Star

Chapter 23

Carlson's eyes opened. Jon raised his rifle and aimed it right between them. "If they've done anything to Kira..."

"Shut up, Jon. Hal, please be more specific."

"I'm afraid I can't, Ellia. I'm being shut out of the information flow."

"What? How?"

"More and more communications are being slipped to short-range scramblers. There's a lot of traffic, but I can't decipher it. From my perspective it's like watching ripples of darkness spreading out, like someone dropped a rock in the datastream."

"Is that an accurate metaphor?"

"Reasonably."

"Then this disturbance has a center?"

"An excellent question. Plotting...it appears to have originated from the prison."

Ellia walked over to her father. "Those authorization codes were more than that, weren't they?"

Carlson smiled at her. "Of course they were."

"Kira," Jon grated.

Carlson shrugged. "I doubt they even moved her. But they've probably delayed her execution—if they're doing their jobs, they're far too busy."

"Damn you!" Jon pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun was shockingly loud. The high-velocity bullet left a neat round hole in the wall three centimetres from Carlson's left ear.

Ellia stared at him, every bit as white as her father. "Jon—"

"Relax," he said bitterly. "I didn't kill him, did I?" He lowered the gun and strode to the control panel. "Hal, are you still standing by for that broadcast?"

"Standing by, Jon."

"We're ready. One minute. Give me a countdown starting at ten seconds to go."

"Yes, Jon. Broadcast in one minute from—now."

"That won't do you any good, boy," Carlson rasped from behind him, his voice ragged. "Colonel Jeffers is coming. The whole city garrison is headed for this house by now. You can't escape."

"Neither can you," Jon said without turning around.

"Thirty seconds," said Hal.

"What are you going to say, Jon?" Ellia demanded.

"Wait and see." Jon stared at the chronodisplay, counting down the seconds.

"You won't be on the air ten seconds," Carlson said. "If they can't shut down your friend Hal they'll just open up this house like a rotten log. One streetsweeper can take it out."

"Your private sanctuary?" Ellia said. "I doubt it. This place has to be a fortress, Jon."

"Doesn't matter. Both of you shut up."

"Ten," Hal said. "Nine. Eight. Seven..."

"Give it up, boy!"

"Shut up, or I'll gag you myself!" Ellia snapped at her father.

"...three. Two. One. Broadcasting."

Jon's own face stared back at him from half the screens on the control board. He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked in a mirror: the haggard, thin-faced, blood-spattered, wild-eyed, shaggy-haired youth he saw now was a stranger to him. But if his appearance shocked him, he could imagine how it struck those respectable citizens who had stood by and let their society become the kind of place where children were held as slaves and hunted like rats. Let them see what those children have become, Jon thought. Let them think about what lies in store for them if Carlson tightens his control.